Sinnerman
by mustardgirl1128
Summary: Lust, gluttony, greed, envy, wrath, sloth, pride...the Seven Deadly Sins. Marietta/Michael/Cho. "That’s what she’s here for; to reassure Cho of her affections, to be the loving best friend who wipes away the tears." T for language. :Caution: Major!Angst::
1. lust

i. lust

She walks – saunters – down the hall, her beauty blinding him and causing him to send her a desperate glance.

Oh, Merlin, he is _so_ horrible at this. At liking girls. He shakes his head and tries to ignore her.

Anthony catches him looking. "Oh, man, you _like _her!" he says, his voice triumphant. "I can't believe you fancy Marietta Edgecombe!" His laughter is loud, his voice is loud, and Michael is pissed.

"Shut the _hell_ up, Tony! You have no idea who could have heard that!" He's blushing, he can feel it, and he knows Tony will have a field day with that.

"Eh," is his response, a wicked smile on his face. "Whatever."

It's just this lust, this uncontrollable lust that fills him to the brim and says, "You like her, you like her!" Until all he can think of is her face and all he cares about is that.

* * *

_A/N: For the Seven Deadly Sins challenge. Michael/Marietta, and my first try, so…eh._


	2. gluttony

ii. gluttony

He grabs the breadsticks and shoves one at Tony, and puts the other in his mouth. Grinning, he slurps up his pumpkin juice and then stands. "Time for bed!" he calls, a little too loudly and a little too confidently, and she watches him go with a disapproving look.

Cho is staring like a sick little puppy dog, a look of intense fancy in her eyes. "Why did we break up, again?" she whispers to Marietta, her eyes following Michael out of the room.

"Because. You wanted something serious – he was looking for a fling." That's what she's here for, to reassure Cho of her affections, to be the loving best friend who wipes away the tears.

But now, Cho is not crying. She's sighing, _ahh, me_, oh, the poor little baby who lost her true love and will never find the perfect boy.

Yet she moons after Michael, gluttonous and drooling, and Marietta is left to _deny, deny, deny_ her feelings and beg God, or some form of heavenly omnipotence, to save her from fancying – loving – the one boy who is strictly off-limits.


	3. greed

iii. greed

He closes his eyes at night, and pictures that hair, those curls. He can see her face, smiling at him, and he's greedy enough to want it.

She has better things to do with life. She's always mothering Cho, writing home obediently, getting smashing grades. She shouldn't be bothered with his affections, and yet all he wants is her, _her, her, her_.

He's got to stop this vicious cycle of desperate want. He wants to just scream it off the rooftops, because he hates holding it in, he hates that she doesn't know and probably doesn't care, and he wants to ask her out but how can he, how can he when that's lustful and greedy and he needs to _stop_?

He'll stand in the Astronomy Tower and yell her name at the stroke of midnight. "MARIETTA EDGECOMBE!" he'd say, over and over, and then when everyone was awoken and the teachers had started, started to come up and grab him and admonish him and _detention, young man, what were you thinking?_ At that time he'll add, "I LOVE YOU, I LOVE YOU, I LOVE YOU, MARIETTA!"

And she'd hear and hide under her blankets and turn red and avoid him for the rest of his life, for the rest of eternity, and his heart might break but at least the world would know. At least he wouldn't have to hide it anymore.


	4. envy

iv. envy

She shouldn't hate Cho.

Oh no, no, she doesn't _hate_ her. They're best friends.

She's jealous. Oh _Lord_, she's jealous.

Cho, it seems, is friendlier, sweeter, more innocent, and yet flirtier. And she's working her charms on him.

Marietta knows Cho deserves the best, but can't the best be someone she hasn't fancied for three years?

Can't the best, for once, be someone she doesn't care about?

Can't the best, for once in Cho's sixteen years, be someone obvious? Sexy? Intense?

Not, she thinks to herself quickly, that Michael isn't sexy. Oh no, quite the contrary.

But sweet bloody Merlin! Cho has thrown herself all over him, and he doesn't seem to mind. Dinner seems to be inching by, with Marietta awkwardly hanging behind Cho and eating very little. She can't stomach it.

Cho flips her hair and laughs, touches his arm, whispers in his ear. She's so pretty, so perfect, that of course he'd like her. Marietta is a plain, curly-haired, red-faced girl who betrayed the DA. Michael should despise her.

He probably does.


	5. Wrath

v. wrath

He can't help but get angry, once Cho has left.

"Jesus fucking Christ, man, that girl _fancies_ you!" Tony says, wondrously.

"Yeah. I know."

Terry Boot, sitting on his other side, smirks. "You don't sound very happy."

"I wonder why," he says sarcastically, as Tony smirks,

"Yeah, that's 'cause he's in love with Marietta Edgecombe!"

"Not _in love_," he corrects, unable to suppress a smile. It quickly slips off his face as he catches sight of a blushing Cho waggling her fingers at him at the entrance. He turns red and waves back, a fake smile pasted on his face. "It's just, she's so _clingy_. We already gave _us_ a chance. I don't want to again. She won't ask me out?"

Terry and Tony shared a look. "If she does, tell her you've got your eye on a Muggle. That always scares girls away," Terry advised, sending all three laughing.

And Michael pushes his wrath away for another day, another time, when Cho is gone and he can wallow all on his own.


	6. sloth

vi. sloth

She's lazy today; or maybe she just doesn't feel like seeing Cho flirt with him again.

"I'm sick," she tells her best friend, with a straight, pathetic-looking face. "I think I've come down with something."

"Do you want me to get Madam Pomfrey?" Cho asks worriedly.

"No," Marietta replies, closing her eyes. "I'll just rest."

The second Cho is gone, Marietta is writing a speech to her. "I like Michael Corner, and I know you do too. Actually I might love him. He's very, very cute, and I know we can work this out."

Yeah right. She throws it out and goes down to the common room, where Terry and Michael sit.

"You two are cutting classes too?" she asks, plopping down at the table across from them.

They laugh, and Michael says, "No, we're sick as dogs. Tony gave it to Terry, who gave it to me, but he's all better now – lucky bastard."

She nods sympathetically. "Yeah…me, I faked it. I'm too lazy today."

Terry stands up, tripping over Michael's legs as he says, "I'll be right back. I've got to grab…something…from my bed…"

Michael looks after him, a mix of amusement and anxiety on his face. He looks back at her, and she can't hold in her blush. "Er," she says lamely.

He laughs. "Um…can I tell you something?"

She looks at her lap, nods. She imagines anything from _I'm in love with Cho_ to _I'm going to die._ He says, nervously, "I fancy this girl."

"Well, doubtless." She finds the blood rushing to her head, her cheeks on fire.

"But it isn't Cho. Don't tell her – I don't want to hurt her feelings…"

"That's…sweet," she says, now studying his face. He, too, is red. She can't decide if she's happy that he doesn't fancy Cho, or sad for her friend. "Who is it?"

"Well…she's really gorgeous. She's also really funny. She's in this House…and in this room with me, right now."

"_Me_?" she gasps, having never suspected something like that. "Oh, Merlin, I – " She's about to tell him she feels the same way, that she's been waiting for this moment for oh-so-long – and then she remembers Cho, pictures her sobbing into her pillow each night for months, pictures her worried face and her smiles and their friendship. She sighs, takes a big breath. "Michael. I really, _really_ want to like you. But – but I just can't. Cho – "

"Is your best friend. I get it." He's white, now, his hands clutched tightly together, and he's batting his eyelashes like he might cry.

"Can I tell you a secret? Something I haven't told anyone?" she asks him, trying to catch his eye.

"Depends," he says, with a half-smile, a very forced half-smile. "Will it break my heart?"

"No, I don't think so. It's just that, Michael, I've fancied you for years. Three, counting this year, to be exact. And I'm probably a fling to you – I know that. Just a girl that you'll meet, like, date, move on from. But you're more than that to me."

"Why?" he asks, through dry lips. "Why am I so special that the two hottest girls in school like _me_?"

"Because," she says, smiling, "you're one of the few genuine boys around. One of the few through-and-through sweet ones."

"If we both want this, why can't we be together?" he asks her.

She sighs and takes his hands. "_We can't._"

"Because of Cho?"

She nods. "She's like my sister. She _is_ my sister, in all but blood. We're there for one another. We don't do this."

"Can _I_ talk to her?"

"If you're okay with seeing her cry. I'm not, because I've seen it too often. I'm so sorry, _so_ sorry. But we can't."

He takes her fingers, kisses each one. "Can't we do this…secretly?"

She kisses him, abruptly, long and passionate. "Maybe. Maybe. Meet me here tonight, once everyone's left and gone to bed." She hates that it sounds like a secret plan, something she can tell no one.

"Tonight," he repeats, a smile breaking out on his face. "Tonight."


	7. pride

vii. pride

The seventh night of the secret meetings is the night of the new moon. They meet in the total darkness of the common room, the fire burnt out.

As they lie in one another's arms, whispering random pieces of their days to one another, they hear a creak, and spring apart. Abruptly, Cho walks down the stairs, her hair shining in the light of Michael's wand.

"Michael?" she asks, yawning. "Where's Mari?"

"Here," Marietta says, guiltily. She sends a look to Michael, sitting at the table nearest the windows, from her spot next to Rowena Ravenclaw.

"What are you doing?" she asks suspiciously, her eyes narrowed.

"Nothing," Marietta says, cursing herself inwardly for her pride. She'd thought they'd _never_ get caught, because Cho sleeps like a rock. She'd believed they were safe, when of _course_ they weren't, and she shouldn't even have been doing such a thing. "Not a thing. I couldn't sleep, so I came down here, and Michael was sitting at the table."

"Yeah, I fell asleep here," he says, faking a yawn.

"Cho…" Marietta starts, putting her hand on her friend's arm.

"Stop mothering me! I don't need your help!"

"Maybe when you stop acting like a child, I'll stop acting like your mother!"

Michael slinks into the corner, his face red, guilty.

"This is ridiculous!" Cho roars. "I _know_ you two have been sneaking around behind my back. Ever since that day you two were sick. How could you _do_ this to me, Mari?" She spins on her heel, runs upstairs.

Marietta collapses, sobbing, in the corner, unsure of her own sanity anymore. How _could_ she have done something like this?

"Marietta," Michael says, rushing over to her and scooping her up. She cries into his shirt, racking sobs that shake both their bodies.

"I'm a shitty best friend. I'm a shitty person! Why do you like me? I'm horrible. I should be murdered for being a shitty best friend!" she says, over and over, and he only hugs her.

"Of course I like you," he tells her, again and again, until she _might_ be convinced. "Of course I do."

When she has calmed down, she stands up, wiping her eyes. "I think I'd better go," she tells him. "But thank you. Whatever happens – thank you."

"Is this the end of us?" he asks as she sets off up the stairs. She turns round on the top step and gives him a little smile, shining in the pool of light from his wand.

"I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry." And then she's gone, like a puff of smoke.


	8. Happily Ever After

viii. happily ever after

Tony looks anxiously at his friend, who hasn't touched his dinner in days.

Terry hasn't been much better. Both are worried, and one day after dinner, Tony said, "Michael! You look like an anorexic cow and I hate you!"

He just pushed passed him, fell onto his bed, did homework, went to sleep.

There is something so terribly wrong with him.

He avoids Marietta and Cho like the plague. For a day or two, the attached-at-the-hip girls had gone separate ways. And then, like they can't stay away, they join together again, smiling and laughing like ghosts of their old selves. Neither catches his eye, and even if they tried, he'd have avoided them.

All of Ravenclaw talk about the strange Marietta and Cho business. The two are not as they'd once been. And Michael, most say, has screwed one – or both – of them and is now afraid of the consequences.

But it doesn't matter who said what. All that matters is _our_ story. And it continues like this:

* * *

_Meet me tonight, after everyone's gone to bed, in the common room._

Michael stares at the paper, and then crumples it in his fist. He can't decide if it is Cho or Marietta's handwriting, and he is afraid to find out.

But he'll do most anything to do something other than walk around like a phantom.

So he stays, that night, telling Terry and Tony not to wait up for him. He stays in the common room and watches people mill about, pretending to do his Potions homework.

Finally, it's totally empty, and he hears a noise from the girls' staircase.

Down comes Marietta, a small, sad smile on her face, and following her is Cho, wiping away tears.

He jumps up, and then pulls out two chairs for them.

There is silence for what feels like hours, as Cho stares out the window and Marietta plays with her own fingers. It was too much like a fairy-tale in the beginning. No, now is the time to end this.

"Michael," Marietta says, her voice very low.

He does not answer, only looks at her. She does not meet his eyes.

"Cho," she adds, slowly, sounding guilty and terrified and ashamed beyond belief.

"Yes?" Cho asks, giving a mighty sniff and shutting her eyes.

"I love you."

And he can't decide if Marietta loves Cho or himself or both or neither and _does it even fucking matter anymore, anyway?_

And then she stands, says lamely, "Can you…talk it out? Just you two?"

And Cho looks up at Marietta and smiles, almost like her old smile, even before Cedric's death.

Michael sits very, very still and stares straight ahead of him, his jaw clenched tightly. "Goodnight," he says, after a long moment. He does not say _I love you_ or _I'll miss you _or _I'm sorry _or _thank you_. No; he says "Goodnight," and leaves it at that. Perhaps she knows anyway, that he's thankful and sorry and sad and so, so in love.

He misses what they had, what they never had, but how can they get it back if it never was? And so he looks at Cho, and smiles politely, and decides to turn the page, keep on living and keep on believing, and maybe give Cho a second chance…

…And maybe one day, years and years from that moment, a man and a woman will see each other for the first time in years. And maybe the man will gape and stare and beg to know _is it really you, oh Merlin Marietta are you really there? _And maybe the woman will look at him and remember and then forget, _turn the page, _and rush towards him shouting _Michael, Michael!_ And maybe all will finally be well.

Just maybe.

* * *

A/N: My original ending to this was cotton-candy fluffy, and I hated it, so instead we have this lovely, angsty number. =D Thanks for reading/reviewing, all!


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